WarTorn Love
by AmaranthDream
Summary: It was the Revolutionary War. Alfred's fight for independence, was it easy for him to let go? Arthur's unwillingness was only natural, but was he finding it hard to cope with reality..? It was a love torn with the war but a love that will remain strong.


**A/N: My first fic involving a pairing of the same gender? Though it's more of a mild one... I've always felt torn with this scene so... I thought I'd write a bit. Oh, and the fanarts for the revolutionary war-time Alfred/Arthur were absolutes loves!**

**WAR-TORN LOVE**

"Arthur… Do you regret it?"

"Regret what, Alfred?"

"Taking me in, taking care of me; giving me all the love you had to offer…"

"Only to have to betray me in the end…? Then I guess I do."

"I'm… sorry, Arthur. I…"

"Don't be, Alfred. It's hardly surprising really… with the way you were behaving these past few years. But it happened so suddenly it threw me off board."

"…….."

"I never thought you'd grow up so fast Alfred… I wished… we could have more time together before this day was to come."

"Arthur…"

"Maybe… I was trying to live my life in a deluded illusion, rejecting all the foretelling ominous signs in stubborn hopes that Time will have mercy on me. That the time with you will be prolonged if only I wished for it."

Alfred clenched both his fists tightly; with his head facing the ground, unable to bring up his head to the proper angle which will present to him the once beloved guardian of his who was kneeling in the muddy field, face forlorn. He clenched his jaw, desperately trying to hold back the tears that were already stinging the corner of his eyes. It wasn't easy for him either.

"I'm sorry…"

And a thin streak of tear fell down Alfred's right cheek as he turned his back to the one existence that meant everything to him in his younger years. He was going to turn his back, to start a life on his own. As much as he would have loved to stay forever under that warm shelter he used to call home, as much as he too would have wished for Time to freeze at that certain period of time… for things to remain pristine... He has changed.

He grew up.

As he began to take a step forward - the first step to walking in Arthur's opposite direction, to walk away from everything past - He whispered after mustering all his strength to ensure his voice does not crack behind the tension that was building behind the fending away of tears.

"I'm sorry… but I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Arthur…"

With his back to Arthur, Alfred still could not sense any movement from the presence behind him. But it was time for him to go… He should leave when he still had the heart to walk out of this.

"I love you…. Arthur."

And he walked away in a pace that was neither fast nor slow. It was a pace that was fast enough to prevent him from doubts but slow enough… in case there were any last words of parting from Arthur.

There was only silence.

And then…

"I love you too… Alfred"

It made him stop in his tracks. All the thoughts and memories he had of his days with Arthur flowed in and out of his head like a film reel on auto. Those days could never be forgotten… Fighting back his urge to stay, he decided to turn his head back one last time, to see that man clad in the red military coat one last time. The battle was won, after all…

He froze.

There on the same spot he just left, was the image of a dirt-ridden Arthur, kneeling in the mud, face worn out with the war and pressure of it all. But that Arthur was no longer staring at the ground. The smile he was wearing at present far surpassed all the other mismatches that could be found on an English Gentleman.

Arthur was smiling gently at Alfred. It was one of those smiles from Arthur that Alfred had always loved.

Arthur was smiling as if willing him to leave; to start his life with all the blessings from the English country.

It was something bittersweet... but the exact thing he needed from Arthur.

"I'll make you proud someday… Arthur. I promise..."

And so marked the day when America won the Revolutionary War and England was forced to admit defeat, suffering losses insurmountable.


End file.
